


Seven Facts of Life

by wwhy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Age Difference, Angst, Asphyxiation, Asshole Baekhyun, Asshole Chanyeol, Cheating, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, First Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Love Triangles, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love, You Have Been Warned, chanbaeksoo, platonic sesoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwhy/pseuds/wwhy
Summary: Seven facts govern Kyungsoo's life and they all come back to Baekhyun.(What the others have warned him about Baekhyun seem to fade away in a moment of blurred lines and pretty eyes.)





	1. 7FOL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the tags. Then read on.

 

 

_She said, "It's not now or never_  
_Wait ten years, we'll be together"_  
_I said, "Better late than never_  
_Just don't make me wait forever"_  
_Don't make me wait forever_

_Don't make me wait forever_

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  o n e : b y u n  b a e k h y u n  i s  s w e e t. **

``

``  


_Prologue: The first thing he knew was that Baekhyun was sweet and gentle and pliant under his touch._

 

 

"He hurt me again."

 

A shark knock to the door. A quiver in his heart. And then Kyungsoo is rushing to the entrance of his house to reveal someone he hasn’t seen in a month and a half.

 

The delicate scent of jasmine silently invades his senses and hits his face like the gentle caress of a lover. Standing in front of his house is no one other than his boy, Baekhyun, eyes red and head drooped in fatigue. He shivers in a thin cotton shirt and jeans as snow hails onto Kyungsoo’s carpet. His hair drips too, but if it’s from the snow or from a shower, Kyungsoo can’t tell. 

 

“He hurt me. He hurt me really bad this time.” Baekhyun’s voice breaks in the middle of his sentence and a trembling hand comes to his face to muffle his hiccups.

 

“Come here,” Kyungsoo says, his words barely above a whisper. His eyes are wide, his hands careful, and his heart bleeding as if any movement he makes will shatter the already broken boy in front of him. He welcomes Baekhyun into his arms and shuts the door behind him, effectively stopping any more snow from raining in. 

 

“You’re okay,” Kyungsoo murmurs. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re okay.” 

 

Baekhyun sobs quietly, no sound escaping from his throat but his body shudders violently enough for Kyungsoo to tell that he’s crying. 

 

This time was rough. 

 

This time, he might leave him.

 

They stand like that for a while. Kyungsoo hugging Baekhyun tight. Baekhyun clinging onto Kyungsoo as if he were his anchor and they were lost at sea.

 

The snow Baekhyun has tracked in underneath Kyungsoo's feet is making his socks wet, but he doesn't mind at all. He doesn’t mind the inevitable mess he’ll have to clean up the morning after or the puddles that Baekhyun is leaving behind in an indiscernible trail. He never seems to mind anything when he’s breathing in the scent of quiet jasmine, the comforting heat of another body against his.

 

Baekhyun is warm. He is always warm. He is warm like the sun, warm like a heated hand to hold on a cold snowy day like today. He radiates pure warmth from his body and makes the fine lines between Kyungsoo’s logical side and his emotional side blurred. Now, as Kyungsoo cradles Baekhyun’s head in his shoulder and muffles his sobs in his sweater, he can feel the heat from Baekhyun seeping into his bones and making the muscles in his chest relax. He can breathe now. 

 

His boy has returned.

 

Five weeks have passed since the last time Kyungsoo saw Baekhyun. Five excruciating weeks have dragged on for what felt like forever, he believes, until this very moment. He has been waiting this month and a half just to see Baekhyun again.

 

Everyone tells him it’s a trap. His friends who know, that lady on the helpline he calls, his little brother who doesn’t know everything but knows enough to tell. They can all tell that Baekhyun is a trick that Kyungsoo has fallen for many times before. He knows how to use his warmth to sneak into Kyungsoo's cracks, knows how to jam his slender fingers into the breaches of Kyungsoo's defenses and rip him apart. 

 

They call him a fool. This is unhealthy for him; it’s destroying him slowly but surely. The logical side of him vigorously nods in harmonious agreement. Drop him, he tells himself. Drop him from your arms before it all gets too heavy.

 

And then Baekhyun gives a whimper from Kyungsoo’s chest and bunches some of his shirt in his graceful fingers. Kyungsoo looks down and Baekhyun looks back up at him, breathtaking eyes reflecting his soul and licks of black hair stuck to his forehead. His emotions split in half and he feels _something_ in his bottomless pit of a heart. What the others have warned him about Baekhyun seem to fade away in a moment of blurred lines and pretty eyes.

 

After all, who can call him a fool when Baekhyun lets Kyungsoo hold him so tenderly like this?

 

This is where he belongs, Kyungsoo thinks, holding Baekhyun and kissing away his tears.

 

(This is where Baekhyun belongs, Kyungsoo thinks, in  _his_  arms and not in anyone else's.)

 

He gently guides Baekhyun to the washroom and lets him wash up, waddling with considerable effort as Baekhyun evidently refuses to let go of his chest. Baekhyun ends up dragging him into the shower with him, clothes off, and Kyungsoo showers for the second time that night– although, again, he really doesn't mind.

 

Even as they're showering, Baekhyun clings onto Kyungsoo and rests his head on his shoulder although Kyungsoo is shorter than Baekhyun. Kyungsoo's body, however, is well sculpted and molds against Baekhyun's thin frame perfectly as they both cling to each other in the cascading water. The sound of the water repeatedly hitting the tiles is rhythmic and soothing to Kyungsoo’s ears for an unknown reason.

 

Kyungsoo reaches for shampoo and soap. His fingers dance over his wide variety of choices: _French-milled Jasmine Soap, Jasmine Rouge Soap,_ and _Bee and Flower Jasmine Soap._ He ends up choosing the French soap and gently tries to detach Baekhyun from his position at his chest.

 

“You have to let go if you want to clean up,” Kyungsoo’s deep voice booms inside the acoustics of his washroom. Baekhyun whines and Kyungsoo prods a little more persistently this time at his stomach.

 

When Baekhyun finally pulls away in some sort of an unknown shame, Kyungsoo notices a dark bruise on his chest and purple marks around his neck that seem to be freshly made. Cigarette burns are evident on Baekhyun’s thighs and there’s the red imprint of a hand on his waist.

 

Kyungsoo looks up and down, unable to tear his gaze from what seems to be the results of that night's fight.

 

“What is this?” Kyungsoo asks. “Why? How?”

 

Baekhyun gives him no response.

 

And then he's angry. He's absolutely smoldering when Baekhyun winces as he moves his shoulder and tenderly touches the marks on his neck. He feels anger cloud his vision until he sees nothing but red and all he wants to do at that moment is to get his hands on whoever hurt Baekhyun.

 

He wants to wrap his hands around their neck, beat them silly until they learn not to touch Baekhyun again. He wants to give them a taste of their own medicine with his bare fists and then do it all over again. He really, really wants to hurt them.

 

Hurt them worse than they did to his boy. 

 

Make them pay.

 

But the anger subsides as soon as it came when Baekhyun soothingly shushes him and touches his cheek. His beautiful eyes search Kyungsoo’s for some sort of reprieve and he kisses him for the first time in weeks that night with the grace of a fairy and the softness of a child. 

 

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt. Sit down, sit down. I’m safe with you, remember?”

 

Baekhyun plugs the tub and gets it ready for a bath, picking jasmine bubble soaps and bath salts. He pulls Kyungsoo down with him to sit in the water and gives him a tired smile. He laces their hands together for a second and then starts to wash himself.

 

Kyungsoo sighs and shifts closer to Baekhyun, one arm moving to rest on Baekhyun's shoulder and the other reaching for bath soaps. Baekhyun leans over to kiss him and Kyungsoo lets him. The bath soaps drop to the floor with a few dull thuds.

 

The kiss is slow and languid as their lips fit together perfectly like the missing pieces of a puzzle. Kyungsoo hooks his tongue in between Baekhyun’s lips and licks at the roof of his mouth, eliciting a soft moan from his boy. He brings a cautious hand to Baekhyun’s side and runs it up and down, feeling the sensation of soft skin and ribs beneath his fingers.

 

One of his hands instinctively reaches to cup the back of Baekhyun's head, guiding him and tilting his head to give them a more comfortable angle. Kyungsoo pulls Baekhyun by the small of his back onto his lap and Baekhyun leans down to kiss him. His lithe body bends and his hands snake behind Kyungsoo's back to come around to grip his shoulders. Kyungsoo eases Baekhyun's body down into the water and sucks at his lips, setting between Baekhyun's legs.

 

Baekhyun looks so beautiful like this, Kyungsoo thinks, red and panting and ethereal in the water like a mermaid. He's so beautiful with a few strands of his hair floating around him and eyes black as night, looking back up at him and reflecting his own lust.

 

"Kyungja," Baekhyun breathes as they deepen the kiss, Kyungsoo now hovering above him. Baekhyun hooks his legs around Kyungsoo as if it were second nature to him. His hands dance on Kyungsoo's skin and touch him everywhere– his face, his arms, his back. Baekhyun's lips are soft and pliant as Kyungsoo drags at them with his teeth and goes back to kissing him when Baekhyun whines.

 

Baekhyun is so sweet, so soft, so quick to fluster. His hands are so gentle as they embrace Kyungsoo, just the two of them lying on his bed and legs tangled in the sheets like a modern art piece. The gentle rise and fall of Baekhyun's chest easily lulls Kyungsoo to sleep. He falls asleep quickly that night and thinks that it's been so long since he's slept well, heck, even slept at all.

 

Before his eyes close, Kyungsoo desperately hopes that Baekhyun will still be here in the morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  t w o : t h e y  c o u l d  w o r k. **

``

``  


_He would never hurt him, not in a million years._

 

 

Do Kyungsoo is not an affectionate man– not in the least.

 

Kyungsoo usually begins his day angrily cursing the sun for its existence as blinding light floods his room and invades his vision. He then crawls to his closet to pull on a black shirt, black jeans, and a pair of black socks. His frames are black too and compliment his dark eyes well.

 

He drinks his coffee black, just how he likes it. He can’t really taste the coffee at this point. Everything, including the bitter drink, seems to move in an anticlimactic monochrome– boring, prosaic everyday life. He usually burns his eggs until they're fried to a charred crisp and he chucks them in the trash, muttering about the insignificance of breakfast.

 

Kyungsoo will get on the subway and sit the boring ride to his boring workplace where he will flip off his boring boss when he's not looking. He will arrive at his mahogany desk where his work is piled up in black ink and white papers and he will push a few onto the table next to him when his colleague is in the washroom. After playing minesweeper and bomb party with his coworkers for a good forty minutes, when he finally feels like working, he will bring up a client's file and make spreadsheets for the next seven hours.

 

Today, Kyungsoo is awoken by a gentle beam of light filling his room and he turns to see the curtains have been pulled half-way. His house is filled with the scent of bacon and coffee and when he turns to get dressed for the day, he notices his usual black shirt is gone from its spot.

 

When he reaches the kitchen in a rare choice of clothing (a gray hoodie), he is welcomed with the sight of Baekhyun in nothing but Kyungsoo’s black shirt and house slippers, frying bacon and making toast. 

 

Kyungsoo is not an affectionate man, but when he sees Baekhyun, he thinks he could afford to be a different man just for the day.

 

"I wanted to make you breakfast in bed," Baekhyun says when he sees him. "To thank you for letting me crash on such short notice."

 

"It's alright," Kyungsoo replies. He eyes Baekhyun's waist and steadies him when he almost drops the pan. "You should have stayed in bed. Are you sure you should be up and about?"

 

"And let  _you_  cook? Maybe in a million years, Kyungja," Baekhyun says as he laughs with his nose crinkled. 

 

They sit together and eat breakfast in a comfortable silence while Kyungsoo is surprised at how natural it feels. He never eats breakfast with other people (at least not this early in the morning), preferring to grab something on the go and eat during his subway ride. He watches Baekhyun get food all over himself and leans over to wipe russet-coloured ketchup stains off his cheek. 

 

It has colour.

 

"Thank you," Baekhyun says with a smile. 

 

Kyungsoo nods and takes a sip of his coffee. It's sickeningly sweet.

 

"How have you been?" Baekhyun decides to start the conversation with a nervous tapping of his fingers and Kyungsoo tells him he's been fine.

 

He lies and tells him he's been enjoying working as an actuary at the company, that switching lines of work has been kind to him. Yes, things are fine, no, he’s not still planning the death of his boss. He doesn't ask Baekhyun how he's been, or rather completely avoids the topic, preferring to stay on lighthearted subjects like school and Baekhyun's upcoming internship.

 

"I'm canceling work today," Kyungsoo mentions offhandedly when they've finished breakfast and Baekhyun is putting on a pair of his black boxers. Baekhyun turns to him and grins so wide that Kyungsoo is afraid the other man is hurting his face before he's tackled in a hug.

 

"I love you, love you to bits! Let's have fun today. We can go out, watch a movie, do whatever you want!" Baekhyun says while bouncing up and down.

 

His words ring in Kyungsoo's ears and make his face turn crimson. Kyungsoo wonders what the other man’s words could possibly mean as he’s peppered with kisses and looked at like he's the only other person that exists in the world.

 

Baekhyun eyes are clear today and they reflect a myriad of feelings. Baekhyun’s eyes, Kyungsoo thinks, might just be the most beautiful thing in this world he has ever witnessed. It’s the way they flutter ever so slightly with each movement and each blink. Short but thick eyelashes line his almond eyes and Kyungsoo can practically see the hearts floating inside of them whenever he looks at Baekhyun.

 

Of course, it’s only Baekhyun who could make something as menial as looking at each other and eating breakfast this important to him. It’s only Baekhyun’s touch that introduces colour into his empty world.

 

It's on days like this that Kyungsoo thinks they could work. After all, with him and his boy, they could face anything the world throws at them. Right now to Kyungsoo, nothing seems too daunting for them to overcome.

 

Nothing can come in their way when they're together.

 

 

• • •

 

 

They really could work, Kyungsoo often thinks to himself.

 

It's a few days after Kyungsoo and Baekhyun have reunited and they're currently lying on top of each other as they watch the latest edition of  _RuPaul's Drag Race._  Although Kyungsoo isn't exactly into the show, Baekhyun is howling with laughter at every joke the cast cracks and Kyungsoo finds himself laughing along once in a while. He isn’t really paying attention, though.

 

He would rather look at something else– or someone else, to be exact. 

 

Kyungsoo watches the way Baekhyun pouts when a character on the show is eliminated. He watches the way Baekhyun throws his head back when he laughs, the way he brings his hands to his mouth, even the way he almost hits Kyungsoo in the jaw. But the way Baekhyun apologizes with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide is more than enough to compensate. 

 

The wonderful attention is more than enough to compensate.

 

When they've finished marathoning the latest season, Baekhyun orders chicken-flavoured pizza and turns around to cuddle with Kyungsoo on the couch. He snuggles into the dip of Kyungsoo's collarbone and breathes in. Kyungsoo feels his heart thump louder in his chest and he wraps as many of his limbs as possible around Baekhyun to prevent him from falling off the couch.

 

"Are you having fun, Kyungja? We can change the show. This season isn't as good as season eight," Baekhyun whispers into Kyungsoo's neck.

 

"I'm fine," Kyungsoo says. He reaches for his overly-sweet coffee and takes a sip, careful not to knock Baekhyun over. "We could watch a movie. I have  _Black Panther_  on blu-ray."

 

Baekhyun hums and hugs him tighter. "Sounds amazing. You're amazing, you know that?"

 

Kyungsoo swallows thickly and holds Baekhyun tighter.

 

 _Now's your chance,_  Kyungsoo thinks.  _Ask him while he's still in good humor. You won't get an opportunity like this again._

 

He clears his throat and ends up making a strangled noise. Baekhyun looks back up at him in concern and gets off of him, making Kyungsoo violently curse himself in his head.

 

“Just… clearing my throat,” Kyungsoo says, and when Baekhyun looks at him with such worry and asks if he got him sick the night before, Kyungsoo feels something pinch at his heart.

 

"What do you think about leaving Seoul?"

 

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow in surprise.

 

"I meant the city," he follows up. "Too stuffy. Too many people. It's hard to breathe, you know what I mean?"

 

Baekhyun's eyes shine for a mellow moment and he nods. "Of course I do. I get that feeling sometimes."

 

Kyungsoo tenses and prepares himself to ask the golden question.

 

"So, what do you think about a trip outback? Just you, me,” he says slowly as he motions between them, “and the countryside out there. We'll pack our bags and go hiking. I'll take you to my grandmother's restaurant in  _Ilsandong-gu._ "

 

He pauses for a second.

 

"How does that sound– just you and me?"

 

Kyungsoo mentally prepares himself for an outright rejection, but the crinkle of Baekhyun's eyes tell him otherwise. They say that he's happy, that he would love to go with Kyungsoo to see his grandmother in his hometown.

 

"That sounds nice." Baekhyun's words are barely above a murmur and his grip on Kyungsoo's shirt tightens.

 

"We can go any day. I have a lot of vacation days saved up. You have two weeks of winter break left, and it's almost spring. It'll be really nice." Kyungsoo's clipped words come out a little forced and desperate.

 

"I really, really want to go. Trust me, Kyungja," Baekhyun says quietly. "But I have some… things to sort out. You know."

 

Kyungsoo feels something sit heavy in his stomach at the word  _things._  He knows exactly what those  _things_  are.

 

What a fucking idiot he was for getting so ahead of himself.

 

"I'm trying to leave for good this time," Baekhyun promises him, but Kyungsoo can barely hear him over the plummeting of his own heart. "I really think this’ll be the time. His words don't hit me like they used to, you know? I'm not afraid of him anymore."

 

And he's probably right. There's a good chance that Baekhyun will gather the courage to finally leave his boyfriend of four years after a long period of fights and flying fists. There’s the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Baekhyun will turn to Kyungsoo and make _him_ breakfast every morning instead of waking up to a cold bed, another person long gone.

 

But how many times has Kyungsoo heard these words come from Baekhyun's mouth? How many times has he grown hopeful that Baekhyun will leave his shitty excuse of a boyfriend and maybe come live with him?

 

If he did, would Kyungsoo just be temporary? Like always?

 

"Just... give me some time. I'll have to get my stuff, move out. Gotta talk to him. But it'll be fine. Us traveling will be just fine. I promise." After a few moments of silence between them, Baekhyun solemnly utters again, “I promise.”

 

Baekhyun leans up and plants a kiss on Kyungsoo's chin and although his heart is practically breaking, Kyungsoo feels it flutter for what probably is the millionth time. He really does sound convincing, Kyungsoo thinks, as he kisses Baekhyun back twice as hard. Kyungsoo spares a glance at the healing marks on Baekhyun's pale neck and leans down to lick at them, mouthing at them ever so gently so that he doesn't make any new marks. 

 

"I really like you, you know," Kyungsoo hears Baekhyun pant. "It's always been you. You've always been my anchor when times got rough with Chanyeol. Chanyeol could never do this for me. Only you, Kyungsoo."

 

Kyungsoo is in the middle of lifting up Baekhyun’s shirt when he hears those words spill from Baekhyun’s mouth. At the mention of  _his_  name, the doorbell rings and the magic in the moment is gone. It dissipates into a silent awkwardness when Kyungsoo stops kissing Baekhyun and the pizza delivery man arrives, forcing them to pause their make-out session for the moment.

 

Baekhyun sits up and scrambles to get the pizza while Kyungsoo sits alone on the couch, dumbfounded and a little lost.

 

 _Ah, that's right,_  Kyungsoo thinks to himself. Chanyeol is the man Baekhyun thinks about even when Kyungsoo is right in front of him and kissing away his worries. He's the man Kyungsoo hears Baekhyun whisper about in his sleep when it's the wee hours of the morning, when the first few slivers of dawn come escaping through his curtains and Kyungsoo puts the blanket over Baekhyun so he doesn’t catch a cold. He's the man Baekhyun met when he was sixteen, the other man Baekhyun still makes breakfast for, the man who took all of Baekhyun’s firsts away from Kyungsoo.

 

_I’m just temporary. I could never compete with him anyway._

 

Kyungsoo shuts the television off and makes his way upstairs. He glances at Baekhyun’s phone on the table. It lights up with seven missed calls from Chanyeol.

 

_Never could, never will._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  t h r e e : b a e k h y u n  a l w a y s  g o e s  b a c k. **

``

``  


_Both Baekhyun and Kyungsoo try not to dwell on it too much._

 

 

Park Chanyeol comes knocking on Kyungsoo's door a week and a half after he and Baekhyun see each other again. 

 

Just like the person himself, Chanyeol’s knocking is loud and obnoxious. It makes Kyungsoo's ears throb and his head spin. He knows it's that son of a bitch from the earsplitting, rhythmic knocking. Ten knocks and then an interval of two seconds. Five knocks until Baekhyun crawls out of bed and gets the door.

 

Kyungsoo stays in bed and smashes his head against his pillows, not wanting to hear even a word of their conversation. He muffles any sound coming from the outside world and squeezes his eyes shut until he sees stars. But after five minutes, he grows curious and he drags his body to the window.

 

Park Chanyeol is all long legs and gorgeous smiles as he leans much too close to Kyungsoo's boy for comfort. He’s a fitness trainer, Kyungsoo reminds himself, not an actuary working from nine to five. Of course, he has to be handsome. He’s also the exact image of  _desirable_  with his perfect bone structure and superior anatomy. His very presence itself is loud, commanding and _big_. A flutter of his eyelashes here and there, a touch to Baekhyun's face and his arm. 

 

Kyungsoo can practically feel Baekhyun melting from where he stands to watch them, two floors above ground.

 

Park Chanyeol, Kyungsoo thinks, is one of those guys with that _boyish cute smile_ that all the girls go on about. He’s charismatic, cunning, and quick on his feet. He has that bravery Kyungsoo doesn’t have, never will have. He’s willing to take risks even if it means manipulating others.

 

Kyungsoo hears sobbing when he cracks open his window just a little. Most of his body is covered by his curtains but he leaves half his face exposed. Like this, he can still see Baekhyun's hunched over form. He can still see Park Chanyeol pinning Baekhyun to the wall. He can still see him kissing his boy, holding his face tenderly like Kyungsoo did just the night before to Baekhyun. 

 

And then it's all too much for him to handle.

 

Kyungsoo hurriedly pulls the curtains closed and sits back on his bed, something ugly rearing in his gut.

 

 _It's not my place to interfere,_  the logical side of him rationalizes.  _None of my business._

 

But he knows if he doesn't act now, Baekhyun will just leave and ignore his existence until the next time Chanyeol forces him to do something he doesn't want to. Baekhyun loves him, Baekhyun leaves, Kyungsoo grieves. It's a self-perpetuating positive feedback loop except what's being amplified is how much it hurts Kyungsoo each time. He’s second priority, second rate. He’s a minuscule part of Baekhyun’s life and he’s always been aware of it.

 

Eventually, a painful curiosity (if that's what you can call the splitting pain in his lungs) wins him over and he lightly jogs down his stairs to his front door. It’s not the fighting spirit within him that makes his legs feel lighter and his heart beat faster. It’s not because he’s tired of feeling second-rate, tired of feeling like nothing. He isn't rushing down to tell Baekhyun to stay, no, not at all. 

 

 _I just want a peek,_ he tells himself,  _to check if they're gone yet. Just to check if I can leave for work now._

 

_That's it._

 

When Kyungsoo reaches the front door, snow long dried from Baekhyun's entrance a week and a half ago, his right hand is shaky as he realizes just what Baekhyun has managed to do to him in such a short time span. He’s trembling, he notices. Do Kyungsoo does not tremble.

 

Kyungsoo hesitates at the doorknob and finally decides to swing it open.

 

What lies before him makes bile rise up in his throat. 

 

Park Chanyeol holds a shaking Baekhyun in his arms and he stares back at Kyungsoo with a smirk on his face. They're already walking to his black Mercedes parked obnoxiously on Kyungsoo's flowerbed that he and Baekhyun planted together in the summer.

 

Chanyeol casts one last smug look at Kyungsoo before he opens the door and helps Baekhyun inside, closing the door for him just like a gentleman.

 

 _I win,_ Chanyeol seems to sneer at him as he swerves his car down the street, making tire marks in front of Kyungsoo’s driveway. The car grows smaller and smaller in the distance, but Kyungsoo can still hear Baekhyun’s cries in his ears, echoing again and again just like the refrain of a song.

 

 

• • •

 

 

Park Chanyeol is an intelligent man with a sweet side to him. He buys people flowers when they get upset. He makes excellent _galbi_ and sunny-side-up eggs for breakfast. And he always cares.

 

Baekhyun is lazily sprawled on top of Chanyeol’s naked chest as he kisses him senseless, lips locking with the broader man’s over and over again. The quiet sound of lips smacking together fills their bedroom and Baekhyun giggles when Chanyeol caresses his thigh. He moves his lips more urgently now, feeling the wandering hands that have come to cup his behind.

 

“I missed you,” Baekhyun says quietly. He holds Chanyeol’s beautiful face in his small hands and plants another wet kiss to his lips.

 

Chanyeol’s lips, plump and symmetrical, curve upwards in a small smile. “I missed you too.” 

 

With strong, wide hands firmly planted on his bottom, Chanyeol pulls Baekhyun farther up his chest. They roll over so that Chanyeol is hovering above him, arms caging either side of Baekhyun’s head so that he fills up his entire view.

 

“I won’t call you that ever again,” Chanyeol says softly. “I wasn’t feeling well that day. You know that. I actually got a call from my mom and things escalated from there.” He cards his fingers through Baekhyun’s bangs repeatedly like he has done countless times before. He watches Baekhyun’s eyes flutter closed at the familiar feeling.

 

“It’s okay.” Baekhyun wraps his legs around Chanyeol’s waist. “I understand.” He forgives so easily, so quickly.

 

The both of them have stripped down to nothing but their underwear. Baekhyun teasingly hooks a finger under Chanyeol’s _Zootopia_ patterned boxers and lets go, a snap echoing in the room before Chanyeol tickles him in retaliation. They’re both giggling messes as they roll around on the bed, blankets and pillows falling to the floor until they end up in their previous position. It’s now Chanyeol’s turn to hook his fingers under the waistband of Baekhyun’s boxers as he hovers over him, but the heated look he sends his way has a much different connotation.

 

Baekhyun tangles a hand in Chanyeol’s hair to pull him down for a kiss. When his underwear starts sliding down his milky thighs, he looks down at them and feels a prick of guilt stab him. 

 

Charcoal-black boxers. 

 

He doesn’t own black boxers.

 

“Let me change,” he quickly says, unwrapping his legs and reaching over to get up. Chanyeol’s shoulders force him down and he nuzzles his face into Baekhyun’s neck.

 

“Why? We’re already in bed. Just stay.” A relaxing hand comes to run its course up and down Baekhyun’s thigh again.

 

“I have to take a shower.” Baekhyun shivers at the touch and Chanyeol shifts upward to spread Baekhyun’s legs even more. “I’m dirty.”

 

“You know I don’t care if you’re dirty. You don’t smell. And besides,” Chanyeol says with an almost predatory grin, “you certainly taste fine.” Chanyeol sucks hard on an unmarked strip of skin and Baekhyun feels heat coil in his stomach, feels calloused hands run up and down his sides in pure seduction. He’s almost ready to let out a strained moan when one of those hands comes to play with a nipple, but he looks down again.

 

The ink-coloured boxers seem to stare back at him in mockery.

 

“Chanyeol, just let me shower and I’ll be right back.”

 

Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun dejectedly but lets him get up anyway and make his way to the washroom on the other side of the hall. Baekhyun pads forward on uncertain feet and enters their shared bathroom– the one he used to spend hours crying in every time he and Chanyeol fought. He looks in the mirror of the vanity surrounded by those spotlights he wanted so long ago and the boy who stares back is almost unrecognizable.

 

He looks better, to say the least. The dark circles that habitually lined his eyes are now merely shadows cast from the light. His lips are no longer bruised from cruel kisses that tasted like hard liquor and the hand marks around his neck from two weeks prior are simply a relic of the past.

 

Baekhyun strips off the boxers and chucks them into the trash. He runs water for a shower and turns away from the mirror before he can marvel at his much healthier appearance for any longer. 

 

The hot steam slowly fills their bathroom and with it comes the inebriating scent of jasmine from his soap, his detergent, his cologne– his everything. Baekhyun gives the messy bathroom a once-over before he sighs and cleans up dirty underwear and misplaced products. He doesn’t find any lingerie or underwear, or some kind of sign that someone other than him and Chanyeol has stayed in his house. 

 

Good. 

 

Well, Baekhyun reasons as he discards the used-up tubes of peach toothpaste lying around, it’s not like Chanyeol has ever dared to cheat on him before. Chanyeol has done many things to him, but cheating has never been one of them. To be completely honest, Baekhyun doesn’t know how he would handle it should Chanyeol seek someone else for comfort and warmth.

 

He doesn’t know how he would handle Chanyeol cheating on him.

 

The black boxers lying at the bottom of the trash can seem to be shouting out his name.

 

He looks at them and grabs a handful of plastic packaging and dirty tissues resting on the counter. Baekhyun throws them on top of the underwear, along with the empty toothpaste, effectively preventing them from seeing the light of day. He feels the vice around his heart relax just a little. He steps into the shower.

 

Baekhyun lets the water fall on his skin, run down his legs, and soak his hair before he reaches for shampoo. Blindly reaching around, he grabs the green bottle of shampoo in the shower caddy for the first time in almost two weeks and positively gasps. For a moment, he’s eighteen again and standing in the drug store arguing with Chanyeol over shampoo. That was the first time Chanyeol called him a bitch under his breath.

 

He pretended not to hear it, pretended not to mind the stares from passerbys as Chanyeol grew red in the face and started looking like he wanted to shove him. Water filled his eyes and he turned away, setting down the item he wanted so badly. But Chanyeol somehow guessed that he heard, and he apologized and bought Baekhyun a bouquet of jasmine flowers. They put it in the pretty green vase they found on sale.

 

They were pretty, Baekhyun reflects, their short-lived beauty reminding him of the first time Chanyeol kissed him on a day in spring bordering summer, but they died soon after. He remembers Chanyeol coming behind him and hugging him, telling him he would buy him all the jasmine flowers in the world if he wanted them. He remembers how impossibly warm Chanyeol was, how different this warmth was compared to when Chanyeol forced him onto the bed for the first time and his warm breath ghosted over Baekhyun’s ear.

 

By the vase of the dead jasmine flowers, Chanyeol’s embrace was warm and his body was kind and welcoming to him. Baekhyun was so warm.

 

So, so warm.

 

Baekhyun jumps when someone suddenly pulls aside the shower curtain. He vaguely realizes he’s shaking, and the initial burst of light blinds him, but he relaxes when he sees it’s only Chanyeol. 

 

“What are you doing just standing there, baby?”

 

Chanyeol is naked and he pulls Baekhyun into an electrifying hug in the cascading water, effectively stopping time for Baekhyun temporarily. Chanyeol pulls the shower curtain closed again and the bathroom feels much smaller in that tiny space, but it’s a nice kind of small that doesn’t make Baekhyun feel suffocated in the least. (Chanyeol kisses him gently and whispers that he smells like jasmine.)

 

And so he tries not to dwell on it. The whole time Baekhyun gets fucked into the cold tiles of their shared bathroom– the one with a mirror that reflects someone Baekhyun no longer recognizes– he tries not to dwell on the pair of black boxers sitting at the bottom of his trash can. He tries not to dwell on the lonely man waiting for him in another room of another home, 

 

because really,

 

he feels like he’s being set on fire when Chanyeol embraces him and he knows he could never feel any warmer than he does right now.

 

 

• • •

 

 

Dinner with one of Kyungsoo’s few friends is both a rare and excruciatingly painful event.

 

To start, Sehun is both in high school and extremely dyslexic.

 

Sehun is a skinny, tall boy with a lisp and the capability to attract trouble no matter where he goes. He was ten when Kyungsoo first met him and he still looks the same to Kyungsoo, in all honesty. Half-lidded, apathetic eyes and a resting bitch face. Easily offended. Good fashion sense.

 

“All black again, _hyung_? Jeez, don’t you ever wear anything else?” Sehun says as soon as he sees Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo dismisses his remark and hands a worker his coat. He signals a table for two.

 

“Black is fashionable,” Kyungsoo calmly responds as he does this. “Black is slimming and is low maintenance.”

 

“Black represents how dark your pit of a heart is, _hyung._ ”

 

“Sehun, do you want dessert or not?”

 

“Black is very fashionable and I agree you look very striking in the darkest shade.” 

 

Kyungsoo snorts at him and strides over to their table, black dress shoes clicking over the marble floor. He absently notices their tablecloth has a repeating pattern of jasmine flowers on it. He likes it. 

 

“So, how’s life been going on your end?” Sehun inquires. He scans down the menu and flips for the more expensive options. “Is that girlfriend still crashing at your place?”

 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Kyungsoo absentmindedly turns page after page under Sehun’s scrutinizing eyes.

 

“Come on. You can tell me. We’re half-brothers. Almost full brothers.”

 

“Is this part of the international sibling code?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“The code that also states I have to periodically buy you food because you’re dyslexic?”

 

Sehun furiously nods. “Exactly. So open up. Tell your favourite brother anything and everything.”

 

Kyungsoo ignores the fact that Sehun is his _only_ brother (fully related by blood or not) and decides to thank him for the offer but politely decline it as well. While Sehun pouts in his seat and misreads most of the items on the menu, squinting in frustration, Kyungsoo says nothing and is suddenly exceedingly interested in browsing the liquor section.

 

“An… ottersman plate,” Sehun tells the waiter a few minutes later. “And the… whatever’s pictured here. With one of each topping. Just do it. Thanks.”

 

“He meant the oystermen plate. The pizza special for him as well. And don’t get one of each topping. Pepperoni is fine,” Kyungsoo explains. He orders a glass of wine for himself along with a plate of _galbi_. After the waiter leaves, Sehun sits in his seat with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, reminding Kyungsoo of a disrespected five-year-old. 

 

“You know, you were practically screaming that I’m dyslexic.”

 

“I’m sorry. But I didn’t. The waiter looked confused.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

They sit in an awkward silence with Sehun fuming and Kyungsoo scrolling through Baekhyun’s Instagram photos until the food comes. The silence isn’t bad, Kyungsoo thinks, because he’s used to silence when he’s alone in his unnecessarily large house (he’s almost always alone). But he looks up from his phone after a few minutes and gives Sehun his breadsticks. 

 

Sehun rolls his eyes at him and smiles in forgiveness, and once Kyungsoo’s favourite brat is now happy, the mood has lightened immensely.

 

However, the food, Kyungsoo would best describe it when it comes to their table, is _monochrome_ like everything else in his life. Nothing extraordinary. Stringy beef that Kyungsoo can twirl around and around with his fork like spaghetti. Sehun seems to be digging into his pizza and Kyungsoo greatly regrets not ordering something else. (Although, everything seems to taste the same these days and he isn’t sure if another dish would be any different.)

 

The meal reminds Kyungsoo of his workplace, the one with the boring boss and the co-workers whose voices seem to disappear into thin air whenever Kyungsoo tries to recall them. The sweet burn of the wine trickling down his throat is the most memorable addition to the meal and Kyungsoo considers ordering another glass to wash down the fibrous beef.

 

“I know it’s not a girl.”

 

Sehun cuts through their continuous silence five minutes into their meal. Kyungsoo stares at him wide-eyed, mid-chew, open-mouthed. A piece of parsley falls from his mouth onto the plate. The second glass of wine seems very enticing right now.

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m always here to listen, Kyungsoo.” Sehun smiles. At the same time, Kyungsoo panics and thinks about their parents, thinks about their disapproving glances and high expectations, thinks about the consequences of stuffing his half-brother into the trunk of Chanyeol’s Mercedes.

 

Sehun _knows._

 

“That’s Kyungsoo- _hyung_ to you. And of course, it’s a girl. Why wouldn’t it be a girl? What do you think I am, Sehun?” Kyungsoo forks a bite full of gristly meat into his mouth and almost chokes.

 

“I’m dyslexic, not dumb, Kyungie. And like I said, you don’t have to tell me. It just makes me frustrated to see my _hyung_ get hurt. I’m not blind. You’re hurting, and it’s his fault.” Sehun pushes his fork onto Kyungsoo’s plate and steals a whole rib. Kyungsoo feels something inside of his stomach deflate as he gazes into the jasmine-printed tablecloth.

 

“Know that I want only the best for you. I don’t care who you’re attracted to. I just care if they treat you right. And it just seems to me that whoever my older brother is involved with isn’t very good for him.”

 

“Don’t tell them,” Kyungsoo interjects. The short ribs now don’t look as nearly as appetizing as when they first came. They don’t look as nearly as appetizing as the ones Baekhyun makes.

 

“Who?”

 

“My mom and our dad. Your mom too.”

 

“Okay. I won’t tell.” Sehun interlaces one of his pinkies with Kyungsoo’s. “I promise. I won’t break this one. I won’t violate the international sibling code.”

 

“Good. Good,” he manages to say. With a shudder, Kyungsoo unhooks his pinky from Sehun’s and quietly thanks him. If he tries, he could probably smell the intoxicating scent of Baekhyun’s jasmine cologne right now. If he tries, he could visualize Baekhyun in front of him, hugging him and telling him that he would be alright.

 

That Sehun wouldn’t tell anyone, that his secret is safe.

 

That no one in his life except for a select few know that he’s _gay._

 

“I haven’t told anyone. Only you and he know.” Kyungsoo says. “My career. Our parents. If you tell anyone, everything goes down the drain.”

 

“Kyungie. Kyungie. Look at me.” Kyungsoo hadn’t noticed he was gripping his fork so hard it bent in half. He hadn’t noticed that he was giving the tablecloth a death stare for the past five minutes. Sehun puts his hands on either of Kyungsoo’s shoulders and looks him in the eye.

 

“Your secret is safe with me.”

 

Kyungsoo nods and breathes a sigh of relief. He whispers another _thank you, really,_ and proceeds to move back to his dinner. He picks at it for a few minutes until he gives up, opting to listen to the drone of the television in the background, Sehun ranting about his high school, and the clicks of the dress shoes of the waiters as they whizz past him from table to table. 

 

“And,” Sehun says, “Kyungie, I think you’ve got to realize something.”

 

“What’s that?” Kyungsoo responds with a tired tilt of his head. He’s suddenly so, so tired. All he really wants to do now is bury his head in his comforters and fall into Baekhyun’s arms for a solid nine hours. Instead, he at least attempts to pay attention to whatever Sehun wants to tell him.

 

“Falling in love doesn’t mean he’s the right guy for you. Love isn’t supposed to hurt you. Love is never supposed to hurt.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs and puts down his fork, still twisted in strands of beef like two bodies meshed on top of each other. His grip on the jasmine-printed tablecloth tightens and the image of Baekhyun standing in his doorway comes to mind, covered in wet snow and shaking with both anger and sadness.

 

“I don’t think I should be the one hearing that,” Kyungsoo says distantly. He looks down at the jasmine design, crumpled and ruined. Like the wilting of flowers in a vase, the tablecloth is now crinkled and folded in several places.

 

He gently lets go of the cloth. Then, he tightly shuts his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  f o u r : t h e y  m e t  a t a g o o d t i m e, b u t  b a e k h y u n  a n d  c h a n y e o l  m e t  f i r s t. **

``

``  


_He was cute. He was a dork. Everyone at the establishment loved him. But Kyungsoo didn’t like him._

__

_Not one bit._

 

 

There are a few things to know about Baekhyun before falling into bed with him.

 

First of all, he doesn’t like cucumbers. 

 

Chanyeol is careful to specify to the cook not to put cucumbers their _bibimbap_ that seems much too large to fit in Baekhyun’s hands. When Baekhyun glances at the bowls of food other customers are holding, he looks at their chopped cucumbers and wrinkles his nose. Chanyeol laughs.

 

Baekhyun also has no self-control. Chanyeol has learned this from the way he could suggest anything in the world and Baekhyun will go along with it. Today, he suggested they walk two and a half kilometers to go get street food at ten in the evening. Baekhyun had agreed, nodding his head up and down, a little too eager to get a snack when they could just order it themselves, when he had a class the very next morning. 

 

“That sounds like a great idea!” 

 

(But Chanyeol loves him all the same, intense enthusiasm and vigorous head-bobbing.)

 

They walk down the street holding hands and ignore the few cars that honk at them as they speed by. Chanyeol kisses Baekhyun at a stoplight and watches as a driver practically explodes in his car. He throws a beer can at them but they dodge it, laughing all the way. 

 

Lastly, Chanyeol also knows Baekhyun is in love with him from the way his eyes crinkle just a little more around him when he laughs, from the way Baekhyun feeds him the egg of the _bibimbap_ and shyly turns away when Chanyeol returns the gesture. 

 

By accident, Baekhyun drops an open packet of soy sauce on his white shirt and it gets on his fingers. He groans, rifling through the tissues at the bottom of the paper bag but Chanyeol stops him and puts a sauce-covered finger in his mouth. Chanyeol winces at first at the saltiness of the sauce, but the slight blush that settles along Baekhyun’s features tells him that it’s worth it.

 

“You taste like soy sauce,” Baekhyun says after they’ve smashed their lips together, the bowl of food set away safely on a bench.

 

“You taste like cucumbers.” That earns Chanyeol a playful smack to his chest.

 

And Chanyeol is convinced that once he became aware of these three things about Baekhyun, it was impossible not to fall even deeper in love with Baekhyun. It was impossible, not wanting to know every single part of Baekhyun from his slender fingers to every split end in his hair. 

 

When the mood is good on a night like this and Baekhyun starts mumbling on about their first dates and their high school days, slightly but pleasantly intoxicated, Chanyeol takes out a song to play. He shushes Baekhyun’s over talkative mouth by placing one earbud in his ear and another in his own before they listen to music together.

 

Baekhyun has his hand over Chanyeol’s larger hand, still covered in sticky soy sauce. They watch grasshoppers play in the grass and kick pinecones onto the sidewalk. They ignore the honking cars, the rude pedestrians, and the scandalous looks. Baekhyun simply leans his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

 

After a few minutes, Chanyeol sings along to the tune they’re listening to.

 

_Like a river flows surely to the sea  
Darling so it goes_

_Some things are meant to be_

 

 

• • •

 

 

Kyungsoo is quite familiar with Park Chanyeol.

 

He knows how he likes his eggs in the morning (sunny side-up) because Baekhyun doesn’t know how to make eggs any other way. The strong cologne emanating from Baekhyun’s sweaters that are two sizes too large for him tell Kyungsoo that Chanyeol probably wears that cocky _Christian Dior_ cologne. He has memorized Chanyeol’s number from the amount of times his icon has lit up on Baekhyun’s phone; other boy in the washroom and Kyungsoo alone with it on his nightstand. He declines the call every time.

 

(And his favourite food is _galbi._ Kyungsoo knows because Baekhyun accidentally brought it up during one of their dates at a restaurant.)

 

Kyungsoo knows that Baekhyun is probably aware of all of this. He’s probably aware of all the subtle ways Chanyeol seems to claim him even when he’s not around. Kyungsoo knows Baekhyun knows from the way his face casts a shadow in painful guilt when he mentions Chanyeol, from the way Baekhyun looks between them and seems to ask the exact question Kyungsoo always hears in the echoes of his thoughts–

 

_Just what are we?_

 

Baekhyun knows that he met Chanyeol first, met him way before he ever learned of Kyungsoo’s existence. He knows that some things just can’t be fixed with time no matter how hard you try.

 

But what Baekhyun doesn’t know is that Kyungsoo knew Chanyeol even before he met Baekhyun.

 

His first workplace. They hired a teenager as an intern because his mother was friends with Kyungsoo’s boss. It turned out to be a mistake because the teenager turned out to be a tyrant– only to Kyungsoo, at least. He left roughly two months into the job when school started, but Kyungsoo will never forget his face.

 

Four years ago, Park Chanyeol was a ridiculously tall adolescent with elfish ears that protruded from his head and big, bug-like eyes that seemed to spell trouble everywhere he went.

 

“What are you doing?” was the first thing Kyungsoo remembers saying to Chanyeol when he caught him stealing snacks from the break room. Chanyeol was almost as tall as the fridge and both his schoolbag and the pockets of his hoodie had the capacity to fit all the timbits Kyungsoo bought that morning for his coworkers.

 

“Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Do,” Chanyeol said in that voice he always used when he talked to people he couldn’t care less about.

 

“But it does concern me. I bought those. Where are you taking them?”

 

Chanyeol scoffed at him and walked away. 

 

“Follow me and you’ll find out!” A timbit fell to the floor.

 

Kyungsoo felt a corner of his mouth twitch as he quickened his pace. “You’re going to come back here and explain to me exactly what you’re doing with my timbits.”

 

“Calm down, Kyungsoo. He’s just playing with you.” A coworker, the one Kyungsoo always mistook for a lady, put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

 

“But I bought those and he won’t tell me what he’s doing with them,” Kyungsoo said in an almost whiny tone. He hated it when he sounded like this.

 

“I’ll tell you if you let me eat a box,” Chanyeol laughed, finally turning around and already chewing on a timbit.

 

“This fridge is broken so he’s just moving things for us,” Luhan interjected. “Isn’t that sweet of him? You should thank him, or otherwise, your timbits would spoil.”

 

“Those don’t spoil,” Kyungsoo muttered. “Timbits are from Canada.”

 

Kyungsoo could only watch Chanyeol’s lumbering form move down the hallway and into the company lounge, bumping into walls and tables. He noticed how Chanyeol didn’t adhere to the dress code, his shirt untucked, sneakers instead of dress shoes.

 

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said when they entered the lounge.

 

“Mr. Do.” 

 

“Why aren’t you following rule five of the employee handbook?”

 

“Hm? Employee handbook?” Chanyeol obnoxiously popped another confection into his mouth and Kyungsoo decided this was probably while the boy was so tall. He hoped Chanyeol would grow horizontally instead of vertically.

 

Kyungsoo simply face palmed and took a moment to compose himself. “The one you received at the beginning of your internship. Rule five states that all employees must tuck in their shirts and wear dark black dress shoes.”

 

“First of all, dark black isn’t a thing. It’s either black or it’s not. Second of all,” Chanyeol crushed a timbit under his foot as he said this, “mind your own business, _ahjussi._ Might do you some good in the future.”

 

“You’re funny, Chanyeol.” Luhan slapped a hand on his knee. Kyungsoo had forgotten he was still here.

 

“Someone said funny?” Another coworker poked his head into the lounge. “Chanyeol’s tons of funny. Look at him go, he’s got like eight timbits in one pocket.”

 

 

• • •

 

 

Hardships, Kyungsoo had obviously experienced before, but none of them were as painful or frustrating as working with Park Chanyeol. 

 

They had their differences in the ways they worked. Heated arguments were a daily occurrence, along with a number of headaches and bruised egos. Kyungsoo’s words were blunt and to the point. Chanyeol couldn’t take criticism and was also unable to use a printer properly. 

 

“That’s not how you make double-sided copies.”

 

“I didn’t realize you were an expert on my life and how I should live it! Please continue while I take notes.” 

 

“This isn’t about your life. You’re wasting paper.”

 

“Unless your name is Google, Mr. Do, please stop acting like you know everything. I know what I’m doing.”

 

Everything seemed to culminate in one evening during a corporate dinner– a more casual one with a few coworkers that all offered to pay for Chanyeol. The venue was Caribbean food and it didn’t sit all that well with Kyungsoo’s stomach. 

 

The night started off alright. Luhan was sitting between Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, giving the former the relief of not having to deal with bad table manners and jokes about food. At least, he wasn’t directly exposed to it. Drinks came to the table and they helped Kyungsoo take his mind off of the way his colleagues pestered Chanyeol with questions about his first job, how amazed they were that he was working so young. Kyungsoo couldn’t care, couldn’t care less.

 

He didn’t care.

 

It was Luhan, Kyungsoo recalls, that started the game once they were slightly tipsy.

 

“We’re going to go around the circle. Everyone has to describe each person here in one word. Let’s see how well we know each other.”

 

Kyungsoo tried to choose ear-pleasing words and compliments when his turn comes. The coworker that always chose to work out under his table instead of file papers, he called him proactive. Luhan, who seemed to care way too much about Chanyeol’s wellbeing at the company, he called him considerate.

 

When Chanyeol’s name came up, Kyungsoo’s mouth went dry. He tapped the table a few times, waited in silence as a dozen eyes cast their gaze on him.

 

“Uhm… funny?” He tried. A few people laughed.

 

“Let me go next,” Chanyeol spoke up. “Since I’m so funny, my goal is to make everyone here laugh when it’s their turn.”

 

And true to his word, Chanyeol did make everyone laugh, except for Kyungsoo.

 

“Hmm,” Chanyeol said when it came to his turn. “The word I would use to describe you, Mr. Do, is… temporary.”

 

“ _Temporary?_ Excuse me?”

 

Chanyeol laughed with that handsome smile that made the secretaries swoon. “It’s just a joke, Mr. Do. Don’t take it so seriously. But you don’t seem to understand that people have their differences. You don't realize that we don't all think like you. Sooner or later, this will all be gone. That’s why I think you’re just temporary.”

 

Kyungsoo’s face grew red, not because of the alcohol, or the fact that Chanyeol just chastened him in front of his company. It was because he knew the meaning behind those words and the connotation they carried, because he suddenly realized why they had been fighting so terribly these past two months. He got up and left the table, much to Luhan’s disapproval.

 

He was cute. He was a dork. Everyone at the establishment loved him. But Kyungsoo didn’t like him.

 

Not one bit.

 

(Kyungsoo was let go from the company a few months later under the premise of being “hard to work with.” Although, in all honesty, he didn’t care about leaving Park Chanyeol’s number one fan club, his trusted coworker Luhan being the leader of it.

 

“You couldn’t even work with that intern during the summer. How can we expect you to take on a project as big as this one?”

 

He didn’t care.)

 

But on one fateful summer day, during Chanyeol’s last week at the company, a boy with shaggy black hair, droopy eyes and an ugly t-shirt came to pick him up. The faces Chanyeol had shown to him were ones that Kyungsoo had never seen before– something tender, something sweet– something radiating from Chanyeol that Kyungsoo was unable to describe. 

 

All he knows is that the boy was important to him, immeasurably so.

 

So when Kyungsoo sees a familiar face in a bar three years later, still the same shaggy black hair and droopy eyes (but with admittedly better fashion sense), he can’t help but strike up a conversation with him and ask him why he’s crying. He can’t help but order more drinks for him and offer to pay for his bill, can’t help but subtly ask about the bruises on his face. 

 

“I have a boyfriend,” the boy with the droopy eyes whispers when they’re both tangled together in Kyungsoo’s bed. He looks as if he has just committed murder. Truthfully, the boy feels a guilt just as strong weighing on his shoulders and dragging at his ankles.

 

Kyungsoo eyes the mark on his face and the onslaught of tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, his trembling lips. His pretty eyelashes, his sharp chin.

 

“That’s fine.” He smiles, peels the condom off of himself, and pulls Baekhyun closer.

 

 

• • •

 

 

_Kyungsoo hadn’t expected to fall for him. It was simply scratching an old itch, the thrill of his own type of revenge against Park Chanyeol._

_Kyungsoo hadn’t expected to fall for him._

 

 

• • •

 

 

First, meeting him was like a small seed planted at the back of his heart. Even then, the guilt was not yet a part of him. Each time he tangled his fingers in the black t-shirt he wore and breathed in the scent of a different type of jasmine, he would imagine that he wasn’t in the wrong house at the wrong hour.

 

Even now, he imagines that he is in the right place at the right time where the right person wholeheartedly wants him.

 

There are peculiarities about Do Kyungsoo’s house. The two rooms in his residence Baekhyun isn’t allowed to enter has him perplexed because he has already gone into them behind Kyungsoo’s back and there is nothing to hide. The first is a room under construction. Kyungsoo is building his own study. There are plans of floating globes and ebony-coloured bookcases strewn across the table. Baekhyun never knew Kyungsoo had an artistic side to him.

 

The second is a bedroom covered in bright colours, a sharp contrast to the rest of the house– sunny yellow comforters and ocean blue walls.

 

He doesn’t know who it’s for. Kyungsoo changes topics when he tries to veer the conversation to the Empty Blue Room. But he likes the interior decoration very much, and he contemplates often about claiming this room for himself.

 

Tonight, they are drinking in the kitchen atop those glass stools Baekhyun has never been able to guess the price of. The distant drone of a television sets the ambiance between them: comfortable. Calm. A silence that has never suffocated him.

 

Baekhyun lets himself get lost in the burning sensation of the alcohol sliding down his throat, lets himself pretend that his real boyfriend isn’t drunk and passed somewhere in the house. He lets himself pretend that his boyfriend over here loves him, that _somebody_ out there has to love him, and that he isn’t capable of giving himself love. He will wither away without love.

 

(He lets himself pretend that he isn’t a hypocrite.)

 

“Talk to me.” Kyungsoo lifts a wine glass to his lips and looks at Baekhyun in concern. “Something’s on your mind.” 

 

Baekhyun sets down his glass and stares at his distorted reflection. “Why do you think people fall in love?”

 

“W-well,” Kyungsoo stammers, “love is… a complicated emotion. You can’t control it. Sometimes, you fall for people you’re not supposed to.”

 

“Yeah. I get that,” Baekhyun whispers. He pours himself a second glass of wine.

 

“But it can also be magical.” Kyungsoo snakes a hand between the both of them and it lands on Baekhyun’s waist. Inside, he’s terribly nervous, his hand is slightly trembling, and he hopes Baekhyun doesn’t notice. He feels a bead of sweat form on his temple, can’t keep his gaze concentrated, and blames it on the wine, cursing the nerves he isn’t able to calm down.

 

“I…” Kyungsoo begins. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this. He doesn’t know why he’s doing any of this.

 

“Can I do for you what he never could?” 

 

There. It’s out. The question he has wanted to ask since the day he realized he was hopelessly falling for him.

 

Baekhyun stares at him. He stares at the hand around his waist and the heart-shape of Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

Kyungsoo feels his heart stop.

 

And then Baekhyun is all over him, desperately kissing Kyungsoo and almost falling off the bar stool as he does so. He licks at his lips, begging for entrance, begging for a sign that Kyungsoo wants him too, and he _does._ He certainly does. He lets Baekhyun and his wandering tongue into his mouth and groans at the heavenly feeling of his wine-stained saliva mixing with his own.

 

There’s too much tongue. There always is when Baekhyun is drunk, but Kyungsoo ignores it and hoists Baekhyun onto his waist. They drunkenly stumble into Kyungsoo’s bedroom and he pins Baekhyun down before he can regret it, kisses him with a blazing fury before he can forget it. Forget him. 

 

The next few hours are a blur of passion, pleasure, and intoxication. Baekhyun’s moans bounce around the walls of his room and make Kyungsoo’s ears tingle. He loses count of the number of times Baekhyun calls his name.

 

A few hours pass and the two of them are still awake, alcohol still coursing through their systems. Baekhyun can feel its hazy effect on him, that electrifying buzz in his ears that never seems to go away. He feels something build up inside of him. Something constricts his throat and he feels that now is the time to finally talk about _him._

 

One deep breath, two deep breaths.

 

“The alcohol,” Baekhyun says quietly. He builds up the courage slowly. “It, it changes him. Becomes a different person. Can’t remember me by any other name than _slut._ ”

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow in surprise and waits for Baekhyun to continue. After all, Baekhyun never says anything about _him,_ at least not when they’re together.

 

Never.

 

“He becomes… unrecognizable. He hurts me. He makes me feel like I’m nothing.” Baekhyun fights to keep his voice from trembling and fails. Kyungsoo pulls him closer to him and runs his hand up and down his side. He waits for Baekhyun to continue.

 

“We relapse. We always do, back into this terrible cycle. Sometimes he’s good for weeks. He could be amazing, do everything I want, whenever I want it. But sooner or later…”

 

“When did this all start?” Kyungsoo tentatively ventures. He has a feeling, but he isn’t exactly sure.

 

“That night we met at the bar, it was the second time he slapped me. I should have seen it coming. I should have anticipated it from his nasty comments, the threats he made. But it was like a dream, the first few years before it. He was like a dream.”

 

 _Threats?_ Kyungsoo’s brain runs at a million paces per minute. He imagines Baekhyun saying no, begging for _him_ to stop. Kyungsoo clenches his jaw and tries to soothe the burning anger that rises in his chest.

 

“Did he do anything else to you? Is there someone else?” 

 

"He would never cheat on me," Baekhyun says with absolute certainty. 

 

When Kyungsoo looks between the both of them in some sort of doubt, lying naked together, Baekhyun falters.

 

"Even if he did, he would always come back. Always."

 

 _How can you be so sure?_ Kyungsoo wants to ask. But it isn’t his place. It has never been. He chooses to stay quiet and continue listening to the light mumble of Baekhyun’s voice.

 

“Cheating is something he would never do. I’m living a nightmare when he’s drunk, but then he gets sober and he becomes an absolute angel. Such an angel, bringing me flowers when I get mad or when there’s another mark on my face. Serves me eggs sunny-side up when I’m too fucked to get out of the bed, learns all my favourite songs on the piano and even washes my cum-stained underwear. How long do you think I could stay mad at him?”

 

 _I could do that for you too,_ Kyungsoo silently screams. _I would learn to cook for you. I would learn the piano for you. I could do that too._

 

“I know,” he rasps. “I know this isn’t good for me. I know sooner or later something really bad’s gonna happen, and it’s all gonna be my fault for staying with him. But can’t you let me stay like this for a little longer? I promise, Kyungsoo, I promise I’ll leave him. But I just can’t do it now. I can’t look him in the eye and break his heart.” Baekhyun’s words are becoming more and more slurred, his eyes becoming unfocused. He shudders violently once, then twice, before the tears star to fall. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo says hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I would never make you cry.”

 

“I’ll leave him,” Baekhyun sobs. “I’ll leave him, I will. But I can’t. I can’t right now.”

 

The room around him starts spinning and it morphs back into their bedroom at home. Chanyeol stands amidst a pile of broken glass. His features are distorted as if he has been reflected through a wine glass.

 

_“You only want to be here for the good parts,” Chanyeol hisses in his ear. “Not when times get tough. Not when things get ugly.”_

 

Baekhyun starts hiccupping and Kyungsoo rubs soothing circles on his back. He rushes to the kitchen and brings Baekhyun glass after glass of water.

 

 _“It’s not because you love me.”_ Another throbbing pain hits his head.

 

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

 

_“You only want me because you can’t deal with being alone.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  f o u r : t h e y  m e t  a t a g o o d t i m e, b u t  b a e k h y u n  a n d  c h a n y e o l  m e t  f i r s t. ( I I ) **

``

``  


_Some things are meant to be._

 

 

In the calm of soft green grass and afternoon sunshine, Baekhyun found himself standing face to face with Park Chanyeol from class 4-B.

 

School bells were ringing in the distance signaling the end of lunch, but they didn’t care at all as they continued to linger in the middle of the soccer field. The distant voices of high school students rang in their ears and dissipated quickly as students made their way to their classes. Only two remained outside, oblivious to the world around them.

 

This wasn’t the first time they had looked at each other like this and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Of course, Baekhyun knew better than to make friends with someone like Park Chanyeol from class 4-B, somebody a full three years older than him, but somehow he found himself hiding behind closed doors, quiet whispers and hushed laughter. Their existence together was a secret, Baekhyun liked to believe, but every time Chanyeol’s gaze left him breathless, he was left with wanting more.

 

They stood there in perfect silence as a few freckles of afternoon sunshine rained into Baekhyun’s eyes and made him blink up at Chanyeol. Chanyeol was flushed from his cheeks to his ears and he held one of Baekhyun’s hands in one of his own. He stared at the bright yellow sunhat Baekhyun clutched onto and smiled.

 

“Where did you get the hat from?” Chanyeol inquired, cheeks still red and eyes choosing to look down instead of up.

 

“The girls from my class gave it to me. They said I would look pretty.”

 

“It’s nice,” Chanyeol commented. Underneath the sunhat that Baekhyun was holding on to, Chanyeol was running his fingers along the backside of Baekhyun’s soft hand where no one else could see.

 

“It doesn’t look good on me,” Baekhyun replied. “Someone said it made me look like a fag. I’m going to give it back to the girls next class.”

 

“Don’t,” Chanyeol murmured. “Put it on. Let me see.”

 

Baekhyun rolled his eyes at him with a smile and placed the yellow hat on his head. He gave a little spin and then let out an embarrassed laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides and pink lips forming a wide smile as Chanyeol watched all the while.

 

“There. Happy? I told you it looks weird.”

 

“Don’t give it back to the girls,” Chanyeol said as he quickly pulled Baekhyun by his wrists back to where he stood. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I think you look beautiful.”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes widened before his whole face bloomed a wonderful light rose. He playfully slapped Chanyeol on his chest, earning a protest from the taller of the two.

 

“Hey, what was that for?”

 

“I’m embarrassed,” he squeaked. 

 

“Well, don’t be,” Chanyeol replied. “I meant it. And I always will.”

 

He took Baekhyun’s rosy cheeks in his hands and leaned down to kiss him underneath the wide-brimmed hat. From this angle, they were hidden from the outside world as Chanyeol worked magic against Baekhyun’s pink lips and Baekhyun struggled to keep his knees from buckling. 

 

“Go out with me,” Chanyeol said quietly when he pulled back. “I want to be more. I want everyone to know we’re more.” 

 

With a jittery smile and shaky hands, he nervously waited for Baekhyun to respond. Baekhyun smiled at the floor with a smile before he slapped Chanyeol on his chest again and hid his face in his hands.

 

“Is that a yes?” Chanyeol asked, grabbing Baekhyun’s knobby wrists and pulling them apart from his face. Baekhyun’s face was a bright red as if he had he had spent hours in the sun without his hat.

 

“Yes,” Baekhyun replied, still choosing to look away. He pulled back, adjusted his yellow hat and took a nervous look around him before he said something again.

 

“I want you to do that again,” Baekhyun said as he gently pulled Chanyeol by the hem of his shirt to bring him closer.

 

“Do what again?” 

 

“Kiss me again.” 

 

And so Chanyeol did it again. And again. And again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  f i v e : p a r k  c h a n y e o l  i s  a  t w i s t e d  m a n. **

``

``  


_In the language of flowers, jasmines mean love._

 

 

The sound of a glass clinking against wood echoes loudly against the walls and makes Baekhyun’s head hurt. The icy darkness of their room is suffocating, almost– he stands in the brightly lit hallway yet he still feels cold.

 

(He knew he should have left the house once he saw the shot glasses being taken out of the cupboard.)

 

“You’re drinking,” Baekhyun says weakly, stopping himself from adding the word _again_. He walks in and leans by the doorway, body half hidden and fingers tightly gripping the wooden frame.

 

“Can’t hurt once in a while,” Chanyeol rumbles. “Join me?”

 

 _Once in a while is every weekend for you now,_ Baekhyun thinks. He doesn’t vocalize his thoughts. He chooses to say that he’s not in the mood to drink.

 

“Besides,” Baekhyun continues, “I wanted to talk to you about something.” He mentally reprimands himself. Now is not the best time to talk to Chanyeol about serious matters.

 

“Sit down, baby. Let’s talk. You run out of money or something? Is that internship not paying enough?” Chanyeol laughs gruffly.

 

Baekhyun prefers to stand and ignore the sarcastic remark from Chanyeol. There’s a voice in his head saying that once Chanyeol starts cracking jokes like that, logic is practically foreign to him. He pushes it aside.

 

“Can you be serious? Please? I want to talk about that client you had yesterday.”

 

Chanyeol raises an eye at him. “Which one? I’m a fitness trainer. I’ve got a lot of clients.”

 

“You know who I’m talking about.” Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “The girl with the ponytail and the tight sports bra. The one whose thighs you just couldn’t stop touching.”

 

Chanyeol downs another shot and puts his head in his hands. “Ponytail, sports bra… I think you’re talking about Jinae.” He looks up. “What are you trying to say?”

 

“I…” Baekhyun takes a deep breath. “When I came to pick you up, I saw you helping her do sit-ups. And you had a hand on her thigh. Why did you do that?”

 

“I was doing exactly what I’m paid to do. Help her exercise. What are you trying to suggest? I didn’t _do_ anything,” Chanyeol’s voice is a little louder now.

 

“You were clearly touching her where you didn’t have to and stop yelling at me! Just be honest with me. Why is that so hard?”

 

“You’re jealous.” Chanyeol smiles and crosses his arms. “It’s ironic, really, that you’re mad at me for something like this.”

 

“I’m going to need you to use your words and elaborate, Chanyeol. I don’t understand. Why is me asking you to stop being intimate with a client ironic?”

 

“Well, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, mimicking Baekhyun’s tone, “I actually find it very easy to understand. You hop on another guy’s dick whenever you feel like it. You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” Chanyeol puts down the shot glass and stands to his full height.

 

“Oh, fuck you. You know it’s only because he’s not a fucked-up asshole. He doesn’t hit me when a drop of alcohol touches his mouth. He doesn’t start shit like this with me.”

 

“What, is his dick bigger than mine? Is that why you leave me at the drop of a coin? Aren’t all our fights just because of the fact that you’re a _slut_?”

 

Baekhyun gasps. “You cannot call me that word, Chanyeol. You’re the one with all the mommy problems, all the drinking problems here. I don’t fucking deserve this.”

 

“It’s the truth.” Chanyeol growls, the sound low and animalistic and resonating deep in his chest. “You’re a slut and everybody knows it.” 

 

“You can’t talk to me like that. Your mom might talk to you like that, but you can’t fucking do it to me. I won’t stand for it.”

 

“You know what happened to her, yet you still say these kinds of things to me. What’s wrong with _you_? What’s your problem?” Chanyeol is huffing now, that angry vein in his neck becoming more prominent.

 

“ _My_ problem?” Baekhyun feels himself growing red in the face. “My fucking problem is that you’re always the sob story. Boohoo, poor Chanyeol got hit a few times when he was a child. Boohoo, poor Chanyeol’s daddy left because–”

 

Chanyeol slaps him.

 

Baekhyun falls to the ground and cradles his face.

 

Chanyeol takes a look at his hands in horror and looks back at Baekhyun, lying on the floor.

 

“No.” He brings a hand to his face. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this. Baekhyun,” he says quietly, bending down to where his boyfriend is. Baekhyun flinches away from him with wide eyes. 

 

Chanyeol begins to cry.

 

“Baekhyun,” he sobs as he gathers the shaking boy in his arms, whimpering and stroking his hair like he does when they’re together in bed. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. Forget this. Forget all of this.”

 

“I was right,” Baekhyun whispers. “You’re a monster. You’re nothing but a monster.”

 

Baekhyun only trembles harder, tears falling from his face as well and landing on Chanyeol’s shirt. He can’t breathe, he can’t feel the stinging pain on his face, he can’t hear Chanyeol’s cries in his ears. He takes in the scent of jasmine, the same scent as the shampoo that they share, the scent of the laundry detergent that they use. 

 

Everything feels too intimate. Everything brings back too many memories for Baekhyun to handle.

 

“Let me go,” Baekhyun whispers.

 

Chanyeol complies.

 

Several hours later, when Chanyeol is completely wasted on their living room floor, a broken lamp and a cracked plate joining him, Baekhyun sits beside him and runs his fingers through his hair. He caresses his face gently and waits for the sun to rise.

 

Baekhyun looks over at his packed suitcase, waiting by the door. Leaving has never been easy, but then again, breathing around Chanyeol hasn’t been for a while now, either.

 

He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his back from falling down the stairs, the burn that comes from bruises on his arms and his legs. They had fought many more times that night after Chanyeol’s first round of shots over trivial things, things now that make Baekhyun scoff. When the fourth fight looked like it was never going to end, Baekhyun took to hiding in the closet.

 

The physical pain, he vaguely recognizes. The stabbing in his heart, he knows it like the back of his hand. To Baekhyun, being with Chanyeol is a frighteningly beautiful pain. It’s a pain that seems to wrap its claws around his heart and never let go. Sometimes, it’s a pain so deep that even he cannot swim in its depths. As he lightly strokes Chanyeol’s cheek, he watches Chanyeol’s eyes open slightly and he braces himself.

 

“You’re leaving me again,” Chanyeol chokes out. His voice is hoarse and he smells strongly of alcohol.

 

Baekhyun continues gently combing through his hair. “No, I’m not. Go back to sleep, baby.”

 

“You can’t leave me,” Chanyeol whimpers. “Please don’t leave me all alone. Please, Baekhyun. I love you. I love you.”

 

And for a moment, Chanyeol looks just like the same boy he was when Baekhyun first met him, soft voice and glistening eyes. He makes Baekhyun feel like he’s in high school again, with the sun beating down on his back and the yellow sunhat covering his vision until he sees only Chanyeol in front of him. Only Chanyeol, filling up his entire view and protecting him from the outside until they’re the last two people left in the world.

 

Baekhyun smiles and runs his fingers over Chanyeol’s eyes. He watches them close.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “I’m staying right here.”

 

Chanyeol’s eyebrows unfurrow and his breathing slows. He drifts off to sleep again, his expression now a relaxed one.

 

Baekhyun watches him with a fond look on his face before he gets up. He slips on his shoes and pulls his suitcase with him. He leaves his phone.

 

He casts Chanyeol one last glance before he leaves through the front door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  s i x : d o  k y u n g s o o  i s  a  l o n e l y  m a n. **

``

``  


_How long has Kyungsoo been waiting for this?_

 

 

The scenery during the road trip is beautiful, to say the least. Long, winding spirals of hills and cliffs are what await them after leaving behind the city in all of its capitalist glory. Kyungsoo’s grandmother lives in a country house that has been modeled into a restaurant. It lies on the border of the town district, the place where trees and flowers begin instead of concrete and asphalt roads.

 

Apparently, Kyungsoo too has a country house, one that is a fifteen-minute drive away from his grandmother’s restaurant. Baekhyun had never heard of the park they were visiting, never knew that such a beautiful place could exist so close to a busy city with clogged up roads and too many people. The fresh air is wonderful in his lungs and so is the scent of traditional Korean cooking, something he hasn’t had the pleasure of smelling in a long time.

 

Kyungsoo’s grandmother is a kind old lady who trembles when she shakes Baekhyun’s hands and welcomes him warmly. 

 

“Kyungsoo! Oh my, hello, dear. I’ve missed you since the last time you visited. How is work? How is your mother? Who is this handsome young man you’ve brought?”

 

As Kyungsoo tries to answer all of the questions that seem to endlessly spill out of the little lady’s mouth, he introduces Baekhyun as a friend and winks at him. Baekhyun nods and smiles. He goes along with it.

 

“Come inside. Let me fix you something to eat. And while we’re at it, you can tell me more about yourself, Baekhyun.”

 

Baekhyun misses Chanyeol, terribly so. But the ache in his chest seems to relinquish its hold on his heart when he talks to old Hayoon, a seventy-six-year-old mother of five who favourites Kyungsoo out of all her grandchildren. She shares stories of when Kyungsoo was a little boy– Kyungsoo, who is nine years older than him and always stone-faced. For Baekhyun, it’s hard to imagine him as a hyperactive child, but the giggles that come out of Kyungsoo when Hayoon begins telling him childhood stories make his heart warm.

 

“When he was seven, he told me that he wanted to be a farmer. A farmer? Isn’t that crazy? He wanted to farm snails and mushrooms.”

 

“Interesting combination,” Baekhyun mutters, sparing a glance at Kyungsoo. His face is red and he looks like he wants to self-implode on the chair he’s currently sitting on.

 

“ _Halmoni_ , no you can’t tell him that,” Kyungsoo whines. His tone of voice seems to surprise Baekhyun, who has never heard Kyungsoo whine before. At least, not around him. Baekhyun sends him a cheeky smile and runs a toe along Kyungsoo’s ankle under the table. He turns a darker shade of red.

 

When they’ve finished their meal and have properly thanked Hayoon for her hospitality, Baekhyun has a special request that makes him a little nervous to ask for. 

 

“I came here for one thing, and one thing only aside from you and your lovely cooking.” 

 

“Oh, stop it, you sweet boy. And what? What is it?” Hayoon asks. They’re at the door, putting on their jackets and letting other customers stumble in.

 

“Baby photos!” Baekhyun laughs, dodges Kyungsoo’s attacks of _no, you can’t_ and _please don’t show him, halmoni, you can’t do this to me_. He runs with Hayoon into her apartment, one floor above the restaurant, and is prepared to whip out his phone to take pictures when he realizes it’s not with him.

 

“This is when he was five. He still peed his pants. I don’t have all his photos, but I took the cutest ones from his mother a few years ago. An absolute angel, wasn’t he?”

 

“Yes. Yes, he was. Cute smile.” Baekhyun looks at how thin Kyungsoo was at age eight and desperately tries to ignore Chanyeol’s contrasting chubby pictures at the same age.

 

“And he still is,” Hayoon murmurs. “Our Kyungsoo is a little lost these days. I don’t know what it is, he’s lost that glimmer in his eyes.” Her face is a little crestfallen and it makes Baekhyun’s heart hurt for unknown reasons. He doesn’t know what to say back.

 

“I don’t know you very well, Baekhyun,” she continues, “but please promise me. Promise me you’ll treat him well.” Hayoon turns to him with an unreadable look in her eyes, something sparkling in them but something Baekhyun can’t quite recognize.

 

“What do you mean by that?” He responds with nervous laughter. “I’m a good friend of his. I can’t think of a reason why I would stop.”

 

“Promise me,” Hayoon whispers. “Make him happy.” Baekhyun thinks he can read what’s in her eyes and he vaguely distinguishes it as wisdom. The kind that comes with old age and deep-rooted romances and watching Kyungsoo grow up.

 

“Okay,” he says. “I promise.” Chanyeol flickers past his eyes and he needs a moment to breathe.

 

_That’s over. That’s all over now._

 

A few seconds of silence pass.

 

“I promise.”

 

 

• • •

 

 

“You made me breakfast.” The sight of a vegetable omelette, steaming white rice, and numerous side dishes welcomes Baekhyun along with Kyungsoo’s anxious gaze.

 

He has woken up to breakfast in bed before, but this is on a whole new level.

 

“I didn’t know you cooked. You burned the soup the last time we made something together.” Baekhyun teases him with a sneaky smile, enjoying the way Kyungsoo fiddles with his hands and tries to fight off the slight blush on his face.

 

“That was two months ago. I’ve been practicing. I’m really good now.”

 

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “Let’s see.” He forks a bite of the omelette into his mouth and utterly moans at the fluffy texture on his tongue.

 

“What the hell? Why is this almost better than sex? What did you put in here?” 

 

Kyungsoo gives a shy chuckle. “It’s a secret from my grandmother. I could teach you. Although, you’re already quite good at cooking as it is.”

 

“Thank you for the high-ended compliment, but this omelette is just something else,” Baekhyun says while forcing more of the egg into his mouth. He chews loudly, sounds filling the room.

 

“Really, it’s great. Thank you. This was really nice of you.” Kyungsoo watches him get food all over his face and some of it on the bed, watches the sheepish apology and then Baekhyun’s little laugh that escapes him. He wonders if anyone else would find this absolutely attractive about a boy or if they would find it disgusting. Kyungsoo concludes that this must be true love– the electric spasm that courses through his veins when Baekhyun looks at him, the evocative feelings that he is able to strike within him like a piano chord in perfect harmony. He hasn’t eaten breakfast yet, but watching Baekhyun eat makes his heart feel full.

 

He moves closer, closer, and closer, leaning forward until Baekhyun’s attention is no longer on the food and is now on him.

 

“You’re welcome,” Kyungsoo whispers slowly before he kisses him. Deeply. Kyungsoo hopes he can communicate how much he loves him through three seconds of physical contact. It’s not possible. He shies away.

 

Baekhyun seems surprised for a minute, eyes wide and crumbs all over his face. “What was that?” He says with a bright laugh, with a blinding smile that seems to light up the whole room better than any sun could ever do. (Kyungsoo thinks he could get used to it.)

 

“Nothing. I just… thought you looked beautiful.” 

 

“Beautiful?”

 

“Yes.” Baekhyun’s smile softens and he looks down.

 

“Thank you. I haven’t had someone tell me that in a while,” Baekhyun murmurs.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say, not wanting to break the special moment between them. He simply stands and waits for Baekhyun to continue his meal again before he leaves for the kitchen, saying he’s making a snack if Baekhyun needs him. He rushes down the hallway with an unknown feeling budding in his chest. It’s something natural yet foreign to him, but it’s not ugly where it sits in his chest.

 

In the bedroom, Baekhyun smiles to himself and finishes off his breakfast. He plays with the last tomato on his fork for a minute before eating it.

 

Kyungsoo said he was beautiful, he realizes. He suddenly feels jittery, a little too happy. He has felt this way before and he quite likes it.

 

Baekhyun shifts the breakfast tray off of him and makes to stand up, stopping when a ringtone fills their room.

 

He remembers leaving his own phone back at his house. This ringtone is different from his, a boring series of repetitive beeps instead of loud music. He pads to the washroom and sees Kyungsoo’s vibrating phone on the counter.

 

There is no caller ID on the screen, but the number is one that Baekhyun recognizes. He trembles slightly at first, then falls into a full-blown panic attack when the recognition hits him. He snatches the phone and picks up. His voice is unsteady.

 

“How did you get this number? How?” 

 

“Baekhyun, please. I’m so sorry. You know I never meant it. Baby, please, just listen for a second.”

 

Chanyeol’s voice is scratchy on the other end and resounds in Baekhyun’s ear as if he’s right here beside him. Baekhyun’s legs give out underneath him and he falls to the floor on his knees.

 

“I need you. I just want to you come back. I want it to be like it used to be.”

 

“How,” Baekhyun manages to choke out through his staggered breathing, “how did you get this number? Why are you calling him? What does he have to do with any of this?”

 

“Baekhyun, I love you. I need you more than I need air. Please just talk to me, please come to see me one more time and we can talk it out. We can’t end it like this. We can’t just throw away what we have. Please, I love you so much, I love you so much I could die–”

 

Baekhyun hangs up the phone.

 

 

• • •

 

 

Baekhyun decides that any form of physical exercise aside from sex might be a bad idea for him.

 

Hiking in the outback of rural Korea for the most part is fine, aside from the buzzing mosquitoes and the burning sun beating down on his face. He chooses not to question the itch on his ass but rather appreciates the blueness of the lakes and the rustic scent of trees all around him.

 

Kyungsoo likes to point out the scenery to him every once in a while with sparkling eyes that scream _this is where I grew up._ They pass by a tire swing by the lake he used to play with, a few fishing spots that he used to go to with his parents. Even his little brother had spent a few summers here. Baekhyun finds it all quite endearing and nostalgic as if he’s looking into a time machine of Kyungsoo’s childhood.

 

With a cool breeze hitting his face and making the hike a little more bearable, he decides that even if he’s not a fan of hiking, at least in this part of the world, he’s safe from Chanyeol. The distant splashing of the river steadies his heartbeat and he looks over at Kyungsoo who’s setting up their picnic. 

 

“So, I was thinking of finding a place to stay in the city,” Baekhyun begins. “Although I’m… a little short on cash and I can’t find anywhere close to my university.”

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes light up. “I have more than enough room for you. And I’m close to the bus station. You could… stay… I-I don’t know,” he stutters.

 

“That would be wonderful. I’ll pay rent. Be a good roommate.”

 

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo says hurriedly. “I just want you to be close to me. Don’t worry about it. Think of me like a…” His face turns red and he stops speaking. Kyungsoo takes out a few sandwiches and places them down.

 

“Like a what?” Baekhyun teases. He laughs when Kyungsoo tells him to forget it and spends the rest of their lunch cracking jokes and playful banter here and there. They both know what Kyungsoo was about to say, Baekhyun not letting him forget it any time soon.

 

 _Think of me like a boyfriend._ Kyungsoo was close to saying those words this time, but he’s sure he’ll find the courage to talk about it soon.

 

“We should get back soon,” Kyungsoo says when they’ve finished their meal. He pulls out his phone to check the time. Baekhyun tries not to look at the device.

 

Kyungsoo’s phone now brings back bad memories from the washroom incident. He had deleted the call history, but he still feels something is wrong. At night, he is sometimes woken up by Kyungsoo shaking him awake, saying that he was thrashing in his sleep. He doesn’t have to say it. They both know why he can’t sleep well.

 

Baekhyun had blocked Chanyeol’s number and his work one too, nothing problematic sounding from Kyungsoo’s phone for the past week. He took all necessary precautions, planning out what he would say should Chanyeol ever try to visit him. He planned a time to go get the rest of his things when Chanyeol was at work. 

 

Now, when his memories from the past start sneaking into his vision, he is able to push them away and try to erase them. It never happened. They never happened. He repeats it like a mantra.

 

He’s stronger with Kyungsoo by his side. 

 

But the nagging doubt that floods his body when Kyungsoo holds his hand as they walk back to the cottage is odd. He wonders if he’ll ever get better, ever be able to erase what Chanyeol did to him. He wonders if one day, he’ll be able to look back on it and remember the happy times they shared instead of the bad. He hopes that one day he will be free.

 

Kyungsoo pulls him out of his reverie by sneaking a kiss on his cheek and a hand around his waist. Baekhyun jolts, then smiles and hits Kyungsoo playfully.

 

“So when we get back, I was thinking tonight that we could go into town and pick up a few things. They’ve got a really cool concert hall I want to show you. It’s–” 

 

Kyungsoo stops in his tracks as they near the cottage. He stares dumbfounded at the black car parked on his driveway. He recognizes it.

 

A black Mercedes.

 

As if he were living a nightmare, no one other than Park Chanyeol emerges from behind the car in all of his living glory. He is very much alive and not dead from alcohol poisoning like Kyungsoo had hoped. Dark circles line his eyes and his lips are a pale mauve as if he really did die, but he still makes Kyungsoo’s hairs on his arm stand up in alarm.

 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Chanyeol says with some sort of relief. His stare cuts between the both of them and lands on Baekhyun. He begins walking toward them in sluggish steps.

 

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo snarls. He places a hand before Baekhyun and narrows his eyes. Chanyeol is still staring at Baekhyun. Baekhyun is still shaking. (When did Baekhyun start shaking?)

 

Kyungsoo waltzes in between the two of them and clenches his fists.

 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Kyungsoo screams at Chanyeol.

 

“Move.” Chanyeol tries to shove him aside but Kyungsoo won’t have it. He grabs his arm and pulls and now he is certain that he could beat Park Chanyeol in a fight from the way he sways to the floor.

 

Kyungsoo kicks him to the ground and raises a fist. He bunches some of Chanyeol’s collar in his hand and lands one hit, two. He is ready to strike again when a scream tears through the air.

 

“Stop! Don’t hurt him. Don’t touch him.”

 

He freezes in his spot at Baekhyun’s voice.

 

“Please… don’t hurt him. Just stop it, Kyungsoo.”

 

Kyungsoo puts his fist down and looks over in shock.

 

Baekhyun is shaking, but for a different reason. He looks angry. He’s shaking with rage at…

 

Kyungsoo?

 

What did he do wrong?

 

Baekhyun rushes over to them and pushes Kyungsoo away, choosing to cradle Chanyeol’s head in his arms, checking for any injuries. His breathing is erratic, pupils dilated. He mumbles incoherent words while Chanyeol lies there, winded. Nobody says anything for what was most likely a minute or two but felt like an hour. 

 

After a few moments, Baekhyun slowly turns his head to Kyungsoo. Now, Kyungsoo is certain about one thing.

 

He can see it, clear as day. Baekhyun is in love with a liar– a toxic, manipulative, and hurtful liar.

 

But Kyungsoo can’t blame him.

 

After all, he’s just the same.

 

Chanyeol slowly gets up on his feet and pulls Baekhyun close to him. His nose is bleeding and one of his eyes is an angry red.

 

“Let’s go,” Chanyeol whispers. Baekhyun trails after him to Chanyeol’s car that now seems much too close to Kyungsoo for his liking. The car is too close. Baekhyun is too close to leaving him yet again.

 

“Baekhyun!” Kyungsoo calls after him. “Wait, wait.”

 

Baekhyun turns around and casts him one last haunted glance– one that Kyungsoo will never be able to forget for as long as he lives– before Chanyeol roughly pulls him into his car and they drive away.

 

And like the swelling of rain clouds after a long day of sunshine, Kyungsoo falls to the floor and he finally cries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  s e v e n : b a e k h y u n  a l w a y s  g o e s  b a c k. **

``

``  


_Epilogue: Baekhyun’s touches spell L-O-V-E to Kyungsoo, no matter the reason behind them or where they come from._

 

 

_”He hurt me again."_

_A shark knock to the door. A quiver in his heart. And then Kyungsoo is rushing to the entrance of his house to reveal someone he hasn’t seen in a month and a half._

_The delicate scent of jasmine silently invades his senses and hits his face like the gentle caress of a lover. Standing in front of his house is no one other than his boy, Baekhyun, eyes red and head drooped in fatigue. He shivers in a simple thin cotton shirt and jeans as snow hails onto Kyungsoo’s carpet. His hair drips too, but if it’s from the snow or from a shower, Kyungsoo can’t tell._

_“He hurt me. He really hurt me bad this time.” Baekhyun’s voice breaks in the middle of his sentence and a trembling hand comes to his face to muffle his hiccups._

_“Come here,” Kyungsoo says, his words barely above a whisper. His eyes are wide, his hands careful and his heart bleeding as if any movement he makes will shatter the already-broken boy in front of him. He welcomes Baekhyun into his arms and shuts the door behind him, effectively stopping any more snow from raining in._

_“You’re okay,” Kyungsoo murmurs. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re okay.”_

_Baekhyun sobs quietly, no sound escaping from his throat but his body shudders violently enough for Kyungsoo to tell that he’s crying._

_This time was rough._

_This time, he might leave him._

_They stand like that for a while. Kyungsoo hugging Baekhyun tight. Baekhyun clinging onto Kyungsoo as if he were his anchor and they were lost at sea._

_They stand like that for a while._

_They stand like that for a while._

_They stand like that for a while._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not condone abusive relationships, drug abuse or infidelity in any shape or form. Thank you for reading.
> 
> Continue reading for deleted scenes. They are of no chronological importance to the original story. I was unable to find a good place to insert them.
> 
> Spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/iroc6z7la5anpioghx22izr2e/playlist/7Dq4cezVJ9b8XRw3JEhXed?si=1qKPlzeHSWqlzBTTvY5rYg
> 
> And if you’ve made it this far, my next work will be multi-chaptered.


	2. DS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DELETED SCENE

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  e i g h t : r e a i d n g  p e p o l e  i n a s t e d o f  w r o d s f o r h i m w s a e s a y. **

``

``  


_He sometimes calls himself stupid, sometimes calls himself a genius of some sorts._

 

 

Sehun might not be able to pass a sixth-grade spelling test, but he sure as hell could become a rocket scientist in three years.

 

For Sehun, there are two very important things in his life: his best friend, also known as his one and only brother, Kyungsoo- _hyung_ , and what snack he buys from the vending machine after he finishes lunch. There is one distinct similarity between these two things, and it is that both are very easy for him to read.

 

A4. D2. He presses the same combination every time, and like magic, his favourite shrimp-flavoured chips and apple juice will come out of the other end of the vending machine. Two buttons. The simplicity. Sehun wishes that everything in school was this easy to understand.

 

 _I’m your little brother. Tell me everything._ These two phrases almost always work on Kyungsoo, almost always make him spill what’s on his mind so Sehun can understand him a little better. Sehun considers himself an expert on the subject known as Do Kyungsoo, the twenty-nine-year-old actuary who kind of hates his job and his boss but not enough to do anything about it. Kyungsoo is simple. His emotions are easy for Sehun to comprehend. He reads him so easily.

 

(Sehun has also been watching and learning from Kyungsoo for quite a while now to not make the same mistakes he does.)

 

But Sehun often wonders why he is the way that he is. He finds himself asking why people call him ‘lazy,’ say that he’s ‘not trying hard enough’ (of course he is, he just can’t continue reading when the splitting pain in his head is so terrible). 

 

At age ten, he solved university-level calculus problems for his brother who was finishing his bachelor’s degree. This was when he first met Kyungsoo and why he became so close with him in such a short amount of time. Sehun helped with Kyungsoo’s math homework from his minor in pure mathematics. Kyungsoo bought him shrimp-flavoured chips and apple juice.

 

Nobody else knows that he’s able to do all these calculations in his head. They keep it a secret between each other. After all, Sehun doesn’t think anyone would believe him in the first place. He can get the answers, but he can’t write his process out on paper. He can’t count without his fingers nor do basic arithmetic, but he can solve for the missing variable in a diagram that fills up four pages.

 

It’s probably because of his grades, Sehun realizes. In school, he’s failing lower-level Korean and has no space in his timetable for English. He can barely get through the first ten pages of a book without having to set it down and get more apple juice. 

 

Sehun considers himself a force of nature. In a world where everybody else seems to be thriving in their studies except for him, he still finds himself in a place of power.

 

They call him the more reliable version of their school counselor. First-year girls who’ve been dumped by their boyfriends, seniors who have trouble deciding what to do with their lives– you name it, they’ve probably asked Sehun for help. He offers great advice. He can read their body language, can understand their subtle emotional cues, and can feel an empathy so intense it’s almost like these emotions are his own.

 

For Sehun, reading people instead of words was easy. Understanding Fermat’s last theorem was, too.

 

Kyungsoo and Sehun had quite the good relationship between them until roughly a year ago, Sehun reflects. It was roughly a year ago that the ‘girlfriend’ started showing up at Kyungsoo’s big, empty house, usually at random times. (Usually at inconvenient times.)

 

Kyungsoo was getting busier and busier. He was always occupied with this appointment here and that dinner date there. It felt like he was forgetting Sehun now that he had his new girlfriend around. It was always hushed excuses, last-minute cancellations, repeated violations of the international sibling code. 

 

Sehun was sick of it.

 

“Why don’t you introduce me to her? I’d like to know who you’re seeing. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

 

“Sorry Sehun,” Kyungsoo had replied. “She’s really busy. She’s out of the country.”

 

Kyungsoo received a message on his phone.

 

“It looks like I’m busy, too. I’ll catch up with you later, okay? I’ve got to run.”

 

Sehun was beginning to feel like he was living in one of those conspiracies where the whole world seemed to be against him. He was determined to get to the end of this and find out the truth, once and for all.

 

On a Tuesday, a day where he has school and Kyungsoo least expects to see him, Sehun takes the bus to his brother’s house and uses the spare key he knows is situated under the doormat. He knows she’s there from Kyungsoo’s strained voice over the phone and the rustling in the background of their rushed phone call. 

 

He enters the house and tiptoes upstairs. 

 

_What does she look like? Why hasn’t Kyungsoo let me meet her? Is she ugly or something? Is she a celebrity?_

 

Sehun feels a little giddy to see the person Kyungsoo might spend the rest of his life with. He’s getting his first glance at the person who has managed to capture his brother’s cold heart, after all.

 

So, when he sees a _man_ draped in Kyungsoo’s jet black bed sheets walk out of the bedroom, one not much older than him, really, Sehun suddenly has a lot more questions than just the ones he came here with.

 

 

 

 


	3. DS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DELETED SCENE

 

 

 

``

** f a c t  n u m b e r  n i n e : h e w a t c h e s h i m s l e e p. **

``

``  


_No caption required._

 

 

Kyungsoo likes to watch him when he sleeps in the case that he has a nightmare and needs someone by his side.

 

Baekhyun’s face is buried in Kyungsoo’s chest while the rest of his body is covered by the bright yellow comforter Kyungsoo almost never uses. The colour isn’t like him, Kyungsoo thinks. Yellow isn’t his thing– never was his thing– but Baekhyun renders him powerless in the face of love and makes him want to swim in all the bright colours of this world. 

 

He brings a hand to Baekhyun’s face and holds his cheek gently. Kyungsoo can feel his face unwillingly twist into a smile when he ruffles Baekhyun’s hair, runs his fingers through the silky strands with Baekhyun leaning into the touch. 

 

He wishes he could save a picture of this moment– engrave into his soul the sound of the crickets outside, the feeling of the moonlight washing on his skin, Baekhyun’s soft breathing as he tilts his head into the warmth of Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo only.

 

 _Show only me,_ Kyungsoo thinks. _Don’t show anyone else this side of you. Don’t let any other guy see you like this._

 

He continues carding his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair, although he freezes when a few garbled words slip out of Baekhyun’s mouth. Kyungsoo resumes caressing his hair after a few seconds but leans in a little closer.

 

“What was that?” Kyungsoo whispers with the softest of smiles. “What was that, baby?”

 

“Chanyeollie, I’m hungry.”

 

And then alarms go off in Kyungsoo’s head and touching Baekhyun’s hair feels all of a sudden much too painful for him to continue. Sleeping beside him is suddenly too painful and makes it hard for him to breathe.

 

He shifts Baekhyun off of him as gently as possible and pushes him away to the unused pillow next to him. Kyungsoo can feel his throat closing up as he looks at the peaceful look etched on his boy’s face. He stares at Baekhyun and sorrowfully thinks that the beautiful things in this world might just not be for him to keep.

 

The little strands of hair that fall into his eyes as moonlight shines behind Baekhyun and illuminates his shadow. The softness of his cheeks, the smooth canvas of his skin, the thick lashes that gently flutter closed. The rise and fall of his chest.

 

Kyungsoo feels something inside of him shatter and crumble into little pieces.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
